The Beginnings of Change
by Marj
Summary: Russia tries to mend ties that were broken between Austria and Hungary since the 1956 Hungarian revolution.


_Author's Notes:_  
This story is related to my first Hetalia fanfic, "They Were Once His", along with a reference to "What She Never Knew".

It usually makes me feel guilty that I almost always seem to portray Ivan as a huge villain. But thanks to a couple of dissertations I came across, I'm happy to have finally been able to find a reason to show him in a different light.

_Disclaimer:_  
Hetalia does not belong to me. **  
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**Beginnings of Change**

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(_Vienna, 1959_)

The meeting room was silent, save for the clinks of porcelain as the two men present helped themselves with the mid-afternoon snacks laid in front of them. The larger one of the two was particularly savoring the tasty sweets, while the other looked at him calmly as he sipped his tea.

However, despite the seemingly casual attitude, there was definitely a huge amount of tension in the air.

"These are really good," Ivan commented, munching on a sugar-coated cookie. "You'll have to teach me how to make these sometime."

Roderich nodded stiffly. "Gladly. Although if you ask Erzsébet _nicely_, I'm sure she'll be glad to show you."

Ivan ignored the rather scathing remark and simply chose to indulge himself some more.

"Tell me, Ivan. Is there any purpose for this particular visit?" Roderich pressed, wishing to get any discussion done immediately. No, he did not want the Russian in his household. At all. But Ivan had been visiting a lot recently, and since he was officially neutral in all foreign affairs, the Austrian could not turn him away.

The large man shrugged. "Nothing that you don't already know. The agenda is still the same as the last time."

"Then my reply would still be the same."

Ivan leaned back on the luxurious couch where he sat, patting his satisfied stomach. "You know what, Roderich? You baffle me. You claim you're neutral, and yet you align yourself with the west. You say you care for Erzsébet, and yet you, of all people, supported those counter-revolutionary tenants of hers and even backed up the sanctions placed by the west after that little thing in 1956."

Roderich bristled, his temper rising. "'Little? _Little?_ After you've brutally oppressed her and her people, all because she wanted just a little bit of freedom? You call that _little_?"

He could still remember the thousands upon thousands of Erzsébet's tenants that crossed over to his property, trying to escape Ivan's wrath. Those painful, dreadful weeks when he had to accommodate these refugees _somehow_ with his limited resources, all the while not knowing how his ex-wife was, or if her people would ever be able to return. Those days when he found himself disillusioned with the un-helpful attitude of most of his western neighbors towards the entire situation.

It was not something he could easily forget. Nor was it something he could easily forgive.

"All right. What would you call 1848 then?" Ivan asked innocently.

"That is… it was…"

_I never wanted that!_ Roderich wanted to scream.

Erzsébet was fighting for her freedom against his bosses, and the imperial army was posed to attack. He tried to help her. He really did. He still had the scars to prove his insubordination.

But he doubted anyone would believe him. Not when _he_ was the one who ended up having to hand out her punishments…

"That was… different," he finally answered, his gaze lowered, defeated.

"Oh?"

Roderich wished he could punch the smug grin off the Russian's face.

There was an awkward pause, in which Roderich struggled to find _something_ to say that would prove that the situations were indeed different.

But to his growing horror, he could not find any; his panicked mind drawing blank.

Instead, all that was left echoing in his head were Erzsébet's furious cries.

"_You cold-hearted bastard!"_

And he didn't think she ever completely forgave him for what happened, even after they were married.

"How's Jones?" Ivan suddenly inquired.

Roderich looked up, his entire being on the defensive. Ivan and Alfred did practically everything they could to spy on each other's activities, and that usually meant that Roderich had to be very cautious when dealing with both if he ever wished to maintain his neutrality. "Why do you want to know?"

"Is it wrong for someone to inquire about the well being of an old ally?"

_When you're now bitter enemies, yes_. Roderich cleared his throat. "He has not changed. He's still claiming to be the hero."

A tiny smile flittered across Ivan's face. "Do _you_ think he's a hero?"

_NO!_ Roderich's mind screamed once more. Why should he? There's no denying that Alfred had taken in the most of Erzsébet's refugees, but that only happened after much pressure from both Roderich and Alfred's own tenants. _A real hero would have just opened his arms and helped those people, regardless of their state of well-being._

"He has some ways to go," Roderich replied.

"How has he been treating you?"

"He deals with me while keeping me away with a ten-foot stick."

Ivan roared with laughter.

Roderich smiled bitterly. It was definitely no secret that Alfred thought of him as his "sieve to the east". Every move he made was filtered and monitored closely by Alfred, just to make sure that the things his western neighbors wanted to keep out of the east, stays out of the east.

"He's really being paranoid about me, isn't he?" Ivan said after recollecting himself, a hand rising to wipe a tear away from his eyes.

"Is there a reason why he shouldn't?" the Austrian dared to ask.

"Is there a reason why he should?" his guest questioned.

"You have a huge army, a stock pile of dangerous weapons, and the hope that all will become one with Russia."

"And does he not have a huge army, a stock pile of dangerous weapons, and a belief in manifest destiny?"

"Manifest destiny was in his past."

"Is it?" Ivan crossed his legs and brought his hands together, looking as if he was very much enjoying their discussion.

Who knew, actually? At the very least, Roderich was sure Alfred was becoming rather meddlesome with the world's affairs, but that didn't automatically equate to him stating that all will become one with America.

Ivan sighed, frowned, and looked out the nearby window. "I never wanted this, you know," he muttered.

"Which one? This on-going arms race between him and you?"

"Hmm." Ivan reached over and took a sip from his now lukewarm tea.

"Then why won't you stop?"

The Russian chuckled and shook his head. "Come now. Surely, as a former superpower, you must also know that there must _always_ be a balance of power, the absence of which would spell disaster."

"True, but the world has never been threatened with weapons that would cause our extinction."

"All the more reason why the balance must be kept in check, don't you think? Otherwise, that one power can hold the rest of the world hostage." Ivan smirked. "I would just rather make sure me and my extended family are on top of that balance whenever it tips over."

Roderich's back straightened; warning bells ringing all over his head. "And so we now return to your original agenda of inviting me to your 'extended family'?" he asked warily.

Ivan grinned. "It wouldn't hurt to try again."

"We've talked about this many times before. And the answer is still 'no'. I still don't approve of your methods, and I don't think I ever will."

"Even if Alfred had not been treating you as well as you'd hope? Even if it's Erzsébet who is asking me to ask you to join us?"

Roderich glared at him. "Let me know when Erzsébet is no longer being controlled by your puppet. Then we can talk again."

When Ivan gave him a serious look, Roderich shuddered. Had the Russian finally lost his patience? The next time they see each other, would he finally attempt an invasion?

Ivan had been courting Roderich since 1957, trying to amend ties that had been destroyed since Erzsébet's revolt. The Russian had been rather consistent all those years in that he claimed to want nothing more than peace. But the Austrian could just not let the events of 1956 go.

"What do you want me to do in order to make our old friendship work again, Roderich?" Ivan asked solemnly.

"W-what?"

Ivan never asked him that before.

"Do you know the reason why I'm trying to reach a hand out here? You're neutral with a leaning to our neighbors to the west, and yet still bearing a fondness for Erzsébet – don't deny it!" Ivan added as soon as Roderich opened his mouth to protest. "In my view, you're non-imperialist. I'd much rather deal with you than to cooperate with any of those NATO-members.

"And you know what else? Whatever you may believe, Erzsébet truly does still value your companionship, and asks about you every time I come home from my visits. And I've told you before that she's very important to me."

Roderich couldn't bring himself to lift his jaw and clamp his mouth shut. He was just too much in shock.

"So tell me. What do you want me to do?"

The Austrian's mind raced. Was this a trick? Was Ivan just trying to get to his good side so that he'd be more willing to "become one with Russia" in the future?

But what if this was true? What if he could use this to his advantage? What if…

"Free Erzsébet," Roderich demanded.

"I can't do that."

Well, it was worth a try.

"Then give her lenience. She deserves a better life. You're _her_ boss now. And if she's still what I remember her to be, she's a damn good worker. So take better care of her!"

The Russian grinned. "Don't you think my trying to reach out to you is part of that?"

Roderich was speechless again.

Ivan finally stood up and rubbed his hands together. "That was a very healthy discussion we had today," he said joyfully. "_Much_ better than the past ones we had. I do hope we have more meetings like this."

The master of the house nodded mutely, still unable to move from his seat as his guest found his way out.

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(_Budapest, 1964_)

Ivan guided Roderich down the hallways of Erzsébet's house. He didn't really need to, actually. Her house had not changed all that much, and though Roderich was saddened to see the damages it had accumulated over time thanks to numerous wars and revolutions, many bear signs of being repaired.

The Russian led him to what he knew was her study. "I'll leave you two here," Ivan said, winked, and walked off, leaving Roderich at the entrance.

Roderich let out a small, breathy chuckle. Yes, Ivan would leave, but he had eyes and ears everywhere. He would definitely still have to watch what he said.

When he opened the door, he found her sitting on a love seat, twiddling her thumbs in anticipation.

It was the first time he saw her in person since they last spoke on their border eight years ago.

Back then, he could hardly recognize her underlying features. But now, though still not as strong as they used to be, there was a discernible light in her eyes again. And she looked slightly better, with a pale flush on her once deathly white cheeks.

She stopped fidgeting with her thumbs once she saw him, and they both stared. Roderich was afraid to breathe; afraid that a slight movement would cause her to vanish right in front of his eyes, to be replaced once more by the unfeeling puppet that he saw her last...

"Hi…" she said softly.

Roderich immediately closed the distance between them and enveloped her into a tight embrace.

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For those who knew them well, they would have found it odd, perhaps even alarming, that the stiff, uptight aristocrat and the fierce, brave warrior were both wracked in sobs and tears. But there was no one with them at that moment, save perhaps for Ivan's eyes who thankfully kept their distance, and they were left to grieve for their past and rejoice for their present.

Roderich held her close as she fervently whispered her apologies for what happened the last time they spoke, along with her sincere thanks for having taken care of her fleeing people, and for not giving in when she had pressured him to.

"Why wouldn't I? Goodness, Erzsébet, they were mine as much as they were yours… but tell me, are you okay? Are you doing better?" He could see many new un-faded scars on her exposed arms – most likely a product of the revolution – and winced at the thought of finding more.

Erzsébet nodded. "The political prisoners had been granted amnesty. I feel a lot less choked now. He…" She raised her head and looked around. "He still calls the shots, but compared to Felix and the others, I'm starting to do quite well…"

She grabbed his collar in a sudden frenzy, her eyes wild. "D-did you see my letter? I couldn't tell you any other way, he was-"

He immediately silenced her with his finger. "I found it. And I love you, too. So, so much…" Roderich showered her face with small kisses. It had been so long, _far_ too long, since he allowed himself to show her any affection, as he kept his distance out of respect for her after their marriage dissolved, and he was still so, so afraid that what he had now was all just a cruel dream, and…

She pulled him down and their lips made contact, pushing all thoughts out of his mind.

Minutes after their initial reunion, Roderich and Erzsébet sat side by side on the couch, their hands entwined, as Erzsébet told him of the gradual changes that had been taking place in her home.

"We've managed to get the agriculture sector organized again – the tenants are no longer starving like they used to," she said, her head laid on her ex-husband's shoulder. "We actually have some surplus that we could sell out at the market place."

Roderich smiled. "That's good news. We've managed to develop our agriculture over at my place for the past few years as well."

Erzsébet jokingly hit him at his arm. "_You_ know how to farm? My tenants used to have to feed yours!"

"Well. You learn when you have to." He shifted so that he held both her hands in his and they were face to face. "Ivan gave us a chance to work together again. My governors have been meeting with yours for the past two years, working on closing long open settlements. Now that I've finally seen you again… tell me, what else can we do?"

Erzsébet frowned. "I'm not sure. A lot of things had changed, Roderich. Plus I still have to abide by Ivan's rules."

"I can't send you the things you need to rebuild because Alfred and the others forbid me to," Roderich nearly growled.

"And your import _taxes_ are also going to be the death of me, as usual," Erzsébet quipped, though she was actually half serious.

The couple fell silent, their initial euphoria now being overcome by the enormous task they had ahead of them, trying to find out exactly _how_ they could help each other while still keeping with the rules imposed on them by others as well as themselves.

But at least they were allowed to see each other again, however limited that may be.

It's a start.

"We're going to make this work this time," Roderich told her reassuringly.

Erzsébet squeezed his hands. "I know."

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Ivan was there when Roderich strode out of the house, Erzsébet in tow. He kissed the Hungarian's hand, bade her farewell, and promised to contact her again soon to discuss further matters of state. Erzsébet waved goodbye as Ivan started to escort Roderich back to his property.

"Happy?" Ivan casually asked.

Roderich grunted. "Both you and Alfred are not going to make things easy for us, you know."

The large man shrugged. "Happy?" he asked again.

"I… well… yes, I am. Thank you," Roderich muttered his admission, flustered.

Ivan grinned. "Good! Maybe the next time I visit, you'll decide to become one with Russia?"

Roderich's eyebrows immediately furrowed, but Ivan's eyes were twinkling. The Austrian gradually relaxed and replied.

"Never."

"You know I won't stop trying, right?"

"And you know I'll never say yes."

The two men parted at Erzsébet's western gate.

The Austrian stayed and watched the large man disappear over the horizon as he headed back to his own house, further east.

Roderich is still unable to forgive him for what had happened in 1956.

But maybe cruel insanity hasn't completely claimed his old friend just yet.

'_Friend', huh… I'm sure Alfred is going to be _thrilled_ about _that_._

He laughed quietly and returned home, eager to share the news about Erzsébet's well-being to some of her former tenants who remained with him, after which he needed to settle down at his desk, pen in hand, house governors and advisers around him.

There was a lot of work to be done, and the piano would just have to wait this time.

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_Historical Notes:_

- The whole fic was inspired by the following dissertations:

* Co-operation through the Iron Curtain, Economic Relations between Austria and Hungary after the Second World War  
* Thirty Years of Economic Relations between Austria and Hungary (1960-1990)

You can find these at the website for the International Economic History Congress of 2006 (IEHC Helsinki 2006).

This part from the first thesis stood out quite nicely:

"[...] Austro-Hungarian relations was seriously interrupted by the Hungarian revolution of 1956. [...] Hungary closed its frontiers again in January, 1957. Soviet Union warned Austria as well, its foreign policy was disapproved and was regarded as violating the principle of neutrality. Austria had a hostile attitude to the Kádár-regime for years because of the brutal oppression of the uprising, the execution and imprisonment of the revolutionaries.

"Nevertheless, hostile Austro-Hungarian relations did not fit into the standpoint on peaceful coexistence formed by the Soviet Union. Moscow appeared as a peacemaker already in the spring of 1957. [...] Although Hungary wanted to reconstruct the relations to Vienna with Soviet support it had no chance for success until the early 1960s. The Austrian government and the new foreign minister, Kreisky, named the improvement of the political atmosphere in Budapest as a precondition to starting an opening towards Hungary."

- The Wikipedia entry for Goulash Communism is also a good reference to what communism in Hungary was like that differentiated it from the rest of the Eastern Bloc.


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